her big pots of hydrangeas. The intense blue created such a strong statement, she thought, dramatic, romantic, and eye-catching. Since the bride's colors were blue and peach she hoped the hydrangeas would fit the bill for the initial impact.
Humming, she went back to her van to unload the pots of white tulips - the bride's favorite - that would line the steps. A sweeter image than the hot blue, softer, more delicate. A nice mix, to her mind, of texture, shape, and style.
A taste, she thought, of things to come.
"Em!"
Bent over between the urns, her arms full of tulips, Emma turned her head. And Mac snapped her camera. "Looking good."
"The flowers are. I hope to look better before the consult. Our biggest client to date requires careful grooming." She placed the pots. "All around."
In a suit as boldly green as her eyes, Mac stood, legs spread, feet planted. "Not much time left to beautify."
"Nearly done. This is the last." With her system bursting with flowers and scents, Emma took a deep breath. "God! What a gorgeous day."
"You're pretty chirpy."
"I had a really good date last night." After stepping back to examine the portico, she hooked an arm with Mac's. "It had everything. Comedy, drama, conversation, sex. I feel . . . energized."
"And look starry-eyed."
"Maybe." Briefly, she dipped her head to Mac's shoulder. "I know it's too soon, and we're not even talking about - or anywhere near - the serious L. But . . . Mac, you know how I always had this fantasy about the moonlit night, the stars - "
"Dancing in the garden." Instinctively, Mac slid an arm around Emma's waist. "Sure, since we were kids."
"I dreamed it last night, and it was Jack. I was dancing with Jack. It's the first time I ever had the dream, or imagined it where I knew who I danced with. Don't you think that means something?"
"You're in love with him."
"That's what Parker said last night before I went out, and of course, I'm all no, no, I'm not. And, of course, as usual, she's right. Am I crazy?"
"Who said love was sane? You've sort of been there before."
"Sort of been," Emma agreed. "Wanted to be, hoped to be. But now that I am, it's more than I imagined. And I imagined a lot." Emma sidestepped, pivoted, pirouetted. "It makes me happy."
"Are you going to tell him?"
"God, no. He'd freak. You know Jack."
"Yes," Mac said carefully, "I know Jack."
"It makes me happy," Emma repeated as she laid a hand on her heart. "I can stay there for now. He has feelings for me. You know when a man has feelings for you."
"True enough."
"So I'm going to be happy and believe he'll fall in love with me."
"Emma, solid truth? I don't know how he could resist you. You're good together, that's easy to see. If you're happy, I'm happy."
But Emma knew Mac's tones, her expressions, her heart. "You're worried I'll get hurt. I can hear it in your voice. Because, well, we know Jack. Mac, you didn't want to fall in love with Carter."
"You've got me there." Mac's lips curved as she danced her fingers at the ends of Emma's hair. "I didn't, but I did, so I should stop being so cynical."
"Good. Now I've got to stop standing around and go transform into a professional. Tell Parker I'm done, will you, and I'll be back in twenty."
"Will do." And with concern showing now, Mac watched her friend rush off. A N HOUR LATER, DRESSED IN A TRIM SUIT AND LOW HEELS, Emma took the lead in escorting the future bride, her eagle-eyed mother, and the mother's fascinated sister around the gardens.
"You can see what we'll have blooming next spring, and I realize the gardens aren't as flush as you need or want."
"They just can't wait until May or June," Kathryn Seaman muttered.
"Mom, let's not go there again."
"It is, however, prime time for tulips - which I know you favor," Emma said to Jessica. "We'll plant more this fall, white tulips, and peach tulips - you'll have a flood of them, and blue hyacinths. We'll also fill in with white containers of peach roses, delphinium, snapdragons, stock, the hydrangeas. All in your colors, popped out by the white. I plan to back this area here with a screen covered with roses."
She turned her smile on Kathryn. "I promise you, it'll be like a fantasy garden, and as full and lush and romantic as anything you could wish for your daughter's wedding."
"Well, I've